Cement steps are cold in the winter
on your hands and knees
driving towards your face
or your face into them
Wouldn't you know it
they glow in the dark?
The black one's my favorite
I fear it's gone for good
pretty little thing
such a tipsy little thing
Who knows when to stop
Who knows when it ends?
Watch the birdie
The picture is flattering
I never noticed before
that little divot of her chin
Maybe I was looking somewhere else
I don't want to be the nice guy.
She's got blonde hair
It's not natural — you can't tell
Wouldn't know the better
if you saw her yourself
And she owes me a french kiss.
1998 © Dave Cavill